ALONGSIDE YOU

33| Portpeis and Mauxers adventure

Benjamin Abdallahs Pov:

"He isn't much of a talker," they said.

"He is a lonewolf" they stated.

"He is shy," they thought.

"He is arrogant and mean " they felt.

Right now.I sit here in the quiet comfort of my room, surrounded by the familiar scent of old books, I can't help but wonder why it is that others feel the incessant need to fill the air with their words. 

Why is it that silence seems so daunting to them, while for me, it is a refuge, a place where my thoughts can bloom and intertwine with the words on these pages?

Perhaps it is the fear of being alone with their thoughts that drives them to constantly seek external validation and connection.

They may find safety in the sound of their own voice, as if it reassures them of their existence. But for me, the pages of these books are my companions, my confidants. They have accompanied me through countless nights, unveiling worlds beyond my own, and stirring emotions within me that I never knew existed. 

I recall a quote from the great author Khalil Gibran: "In the silence of night I have often wished for just a few words of love from one man, rather than the applause of thousands." These words resonate deep within my being, for they capture the essence of my longing. It is not the constant chatter or applause that I seek, but rather the connection that can be forged through meaningful and profound exchange.

As a Muslim, I find security in the contemplative nature of my faith. The silent moments spent in prayer, in communion with my Creator, allow me to delve deeper into my self. It is within this silence that I find the strength to face the chaos of the world, and the tranquility to accept the uncertainties of life.

As I sit here, lost in my thoughts, I suddenly hear my mother's voice piercing through the tranquil air. "BEN!" Her call breaks into my private universe, and I quickly rise from my chair, still feeling the words of the book swirling before my eyes. I rush downstairs to see what has caught her attention.

There, I find her holding an envelope, her eyes gleaming with excitement. I look at her inquisitively and ask, "What are you doing, Mom?"

She turns the envelope towards me, her face beaming, and exclaims, "YOU GOT IN!" I stare at her in disbelief and utter, "At Kingston?"

With a wide grin, she nods and says, "Yes, my dear son! You got in." At that moment, my entire being craves to jump up and down with joy. I walk closer to my mother, take the envelope from her hands, and start reading the contents aloud, "Dear Mr. Abdallah..."

As I skim further down the letter, my eyes widen as I read, "I am writing to inform you that you have been selected as one of the esteemed candidates for admission to the Literature Program at Kingston University. On behalf of the admissions committee, I extend my warmest congratulations to you for being among the select 50 individuals out of the 15,000 applicants nationwide who have been offered a place in this highly competitive program...As a student in the Literature Program, you will have the opportunity to engage with renowned scholars and experts in the field. The curriculum has been meticulously designed to provide you with a comprehensive understanding of literature from diverse cultures and historical periods. You will have access to state-of-the-art facilities, a rich library collection, and a vibrant intellectual community that will enhance your learning experience."

I can't believe it. I never thought I would get in. But here it is, the reality written in this letter. I actually got in. I did it. Allahu Akbar, Ya Allah, I achieved this solely because of Your grace.